Lie Zombie Lie (I Zombie)

by Jack Wallen

  The screamer gained ground on the girl. I sucked in a deep breath, relaxed my shoulders, and slowly squeezed the trigger. The sound detonated in my ear and the bullet left the gun with a velocity far too fast for the human eye. To my surprise the bullet struck home. Unfortunately ‘home’ was very much where the heart was – not the brain. The hit didn’t even so much as phase the beast, who continued to gain ground. The fucker was going to catch the girl and make a snack of her thought meat.

  “Run! Run! Run!”

  I couldn’t help but toss out the clichéd encouragement.

  The screamer lunged and barely missed grabbing the girl by the hair. I leveled my gun for one last shot, held my breath, and pulled the trigger. This time the shot struck gold – or gray, as it were. The screamer dropped like an over-sized, maggot-infested meatloaf. Thankfully, the girl continued running and, when she was close enough, dove straight into the back seat and jerked the door closed.

  Without hesitation, I sat my ass in the driver’s seat, closed the door, and sped off.

  In the back seat, the girl cried to hyperventilation. I let her continue, not wanting to interrupt the catharsis prematurely.

  “You okay? Did that thing bite you? Have you been bitten by any of them?” I Gatling-ed the questions too fast for the overwrought girl to comprehend.

  “Fu-uck!” My new passenger screamed through the hiccups. The disjointed word made me want to laugh. “That was aw-some!”

  The girl’s last proclamation threw me for a loop. Awesome? Seriously? This girl just shot up near the top of my list of ‘huh?’ I glanced back in my rear-view and immediately considered slamming on the brakes and tossing the girl out of the car.

  Emo chick. Of all the people I could have possibly saved, I had to pick up an emo chick. Her hair was nearly every shade of the rainbow – and not in the fun, clown-wig kinda way. Her bangs hung over her eyes, so she constantly had to brush them aside. She had piercings in her nose, her right eyebrow, and her lower lip. I couldn’t get a complete picture of what she was wearing, but I swear I saw an orange and green mesh tutu.

  Good god.

  I had to make small talk before the never-ending diatribe of whining disenfranchisement spilled out of her sparkly, glossed lips. “What’s your name?”

  The girl’s coal-rimmed eyes looked back at me through the mirror. “Echo. What’s yours?”

  “Bethany. Bethany Nitshimi.”

  “No fucking way! Seriously?”

  I didn’t like where this was going.

  My new bestie kicked the back seat of the Audi with her pink Chuck Taylors and squealed. “Oh my god! I’m hanging with a freaking super star! You’re all over Twitter and Tumblr. Everyone’s talking about you being the savior, like you are the rebirth of Jesus himself. Holy shit, isn’t that a bitch – all the religions being wrong. The Messiah’s a chick! That rocks.”

  This is so not gonna work.

  Totes.

  Just as if things couldn’t get any worse, Jacob let out a shriek of displeasure.

  “Whoa. You have a baby in here? OMG, please tell me that’s Jacob?”

  Jacob cried out again. I patted around the passenger seat until I found his pacifier. Before I attempted to blindly pop it in the little guy’s mouth, I gave it a wipe or two on my pants until I realized there was only one way to make sure the rubber nub was clean enough for a baby. I jammed the paci in my mouth and sucked off the dirt.

  There are things we do as mother’s we’d never dream of otherwise.

  The second the pacifier entered Jacobs’s mouth, his cries went silent.

  “Yes, this is Jacob. How do you know his name?”

  Echo leaned in over the front passenger seat to get a look at Jacob. “Everyone knows about baby Jacob. He’s like our last, best hope right? This is so Star Wars and he’s our Obi Wan. Am I right?”

  I couldn’t do it. This little fan girl I’d picked up wasn’t going to work out. There was already enough to deal with. As if a baby, zombies, the apocalypse, and the Zero Day Collective weren’t enough – now I had super fan girl OMGing over every aspect of my life. I didn’t need this. The world didn’t need this. I pulled the car off to the side of the road and jerked it into park.

  “Look Echo – I’m glad you’re safe and I really appreciate the kind words, but I can’t handle the love-fest you’ve got going on here. It’s really messed up out there and I could certainly use some help making it through this nightmare. But if you’re going to be my sidekick, you’ve gotta tone down the worship. I don’t deserve it.”

  Echo was aghast. Her mouth dropped open to reveal a not-so-surprising tongue piercing.

  “I’m sorry. I was just… fuck, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It was just, well, of all the people to save me from certain suck, it was you. You! I mean… you’re – ” Echo’s voice faded off as she realized she was about to add another layer to this already too-thick, sticky-sweet sandwich. “Sorry. Look, you’re a hero. Seriously. And every young girl I know aspires to be you. I read Jacob’s book and listened to Zombie Radio every waking moment. I already know what you’ve done and what you’re planning on doing. If there is anything I can do to help you, please… at least give me a chance.”

  Echo’s huge, blue eyes unintentionally pouted at me. How could I resist? I could use the help. Hell, if anything, it was nice to have another human being to talk with – even if much of the talking would wind up in abbreviations and acronyms.

  When I smiled at the young girl she squealed and, with the speed of Bruce Lee, had her smart phone out.

  “What are you doing?”

  Echo looked at me as if I’d just spewed pea soup and spoke a dead language.

  “I’m posting on Twitter that I’m hanging with the Bethany Nitshimi!”

  I matched Echo’s speed, reached into the back seat, and grabbed her phone from her.

  “No. You can’t tell anyone. I’m still trying to work out a plan and I can’t have certain people knowing where I was and who I was with. Besides, it’d put you in danger. I’ve already had enough blood spilled on my watch.”

  Echo glared at me. I knew I might well have unleashed Teenageddon, but I had to have the element of surprise on my side.

  “I’ll give you your phone back, but you have to promise me you won’t tweet, face, or tumble anything about who you’re with or where you’re going.” Another check in the rear-view. Echo was a lip-biter. Great. “Deal?”

  The teen reached her hand across the plane between the front and the back seat and spoke the one word I had to hear.

  “Deal.”

  I handed Echo her mobile back. She didn’t immediately proceed to go social on me. There was hope after all.

  “So, what’s the plan? We gonna find the ZDC and kick some corrupt corporate ass?”

  There was a lot of hope.

  I had to confess to my new sidekick there was no plan other than to drive and wait for one to fall into our laps. Surprisingly, she was cool with that. To her, this was probably just some road trip dream come true. In the meantime, we grilled one another about our pasts. Echo seemed to know more about me than I was comfortable with. I guess that’s what happens when you make your life completely public as I had with Jacob’s book and my own blog. I did, however, get to learn plenty about the young girl in my back seat.

  She told me she was eighteen. I didn’t buy it, but I figured I’d leave that doubt go for now. She had been living on the streets for the last couple of years, after escaping a tragic foster situation. As much as I hated to even think her sad fate in any positive light, it was somehow reassuring to know I was traveling with a real survivor, and not some whiny-ass teen who’d come undone the second her BFF showed up with same trashy word plastered across the ass of her sweats.

  Echo also confessed to already taking down a few moaners. I was starting to like the little punk-rock waif.

  *

  November 17, 2016 8:50 PM

  Unknown Location


  We drove until I started feeling the warm, inviting fingers of sleep caress my eyelids. The car was in need of gas, so I pulled off at a truck stop to fill up. Surprisingly enough, the pumps were still working and there was still gas in the tanks. As the Audi gulped down fuel, I went into the station to explore and, hopefully, stock up on some chow. I didn’t fully trust Echo enough to leave Jacob behind, so he was happily bouncing along in his sling.

  Thankfully, the stop was abandoned. The last thing I needed was to come across a gang of curious survivors or, worse, a gang of curious zombies. After casing the joint, I realized this might well be the best place for Echo and I to set up camp for the night. We could hold up in the stop, get a hot shower, lay down some cheap knock-off Indian blankets, and get some sleep. I could also slap an air card into my laptop and drop another broadcast to the masses, if there are still masses out there to listen.

  I hadn’t checked my email in a while. Shit. A geek like me not checking email? What has the world come to?

  Oh yeah… the end.

  Fuck.

  Jacob cried out and nearly started break-dancing in his sling.

  The world, and all its wonders, could wait until morning. I was exhausted and Jacob was getting cranky. Time for sleep.

  Chapter 3

  November 18, 2016 10:10 AM

  Unknown Location

  The second I woke, the über-geek in me took over and demanded I do geeky things. The first of those things was to check email. Truthfully, I’m surprised I’d made it this long without a single check. Such is the apocalypse.

  I recently set up a number of email filters to help me sift through the onslaught of mail. Since the original Zombie Radio DJ had me on his show, I started getting quite a large amount of ‘fan’ mail. As much as I wanted to sift through each and every one – there were far more pressing matters at hand. The most important of those matters was to figure out where in the Hell my side kick and I were to go.

  The answer to that all-important question arrived in the form of a single email from an old friend – a fellow hacker.

  Jamal Tisdale.

  Jamal wasn’t just any hacker, he was the one person I knew who could go toe to toe with me in LAN party kernel hacks. We used to host parties to see who could break into a given server’s kernel the fastest. No matter the stakes, the game always wound up with two remaining contestants – me and Jamal. He was good and I fully trusted the man. His email was powerfully encrypted and simple:

  Bethany (aka, my old friend ZeroOneZero),

  It’s been a long while. It seems the apocalypse has been kind to you, or you’ve been kind to it. Either way, I want to return the favor you’ve given us all. I’ve started forming a small, underground city beneath the streets of Seattle, Washington. Our goal – amass an army to help you take down the Zero Day Collective. But we need a leader. Join us Bethany. Help us help you. Use your old pal Google and locate The Underground Tour of Seattle. You’ll find it. And if I know you as well as I think I do… you’ll join us.

  J-Tiz.

  Well, that was that. How could I turn down not only an old pal, but an invitation to help create an army whose sole purpose was to sate my personal wet dream of wiping clean a little filth and grime known as The Zero Day Collective? My reply to Jamal was succinct and included a .jpg of our route to Seattle. Thank you Google Maps.

  J-Tiz,

  On the way.

  Z1Z

  Jamal was connected in more ways than Kevin Bacon. If I knew my J-Tiz, he’d be playing God for the duration of this road trip. It was like having my own St. Christopher along the way. How he’d pull off keeping us safe, I had no idea. But Jamal could work some serious mojo.

  I wasn’t in the least bit surprised that Echo was thrilled at the prospect of a road trip.

  “It’ll be dangerous.”

  Echo laughed as she munched peanut butter and toast. “I eat danger.”

  I wanted to pat her on the head like a puppy, with a nice ‘Oh I bet you do, you sassy lil’ girl.’ I refrained. The truth was, the girl probably believed her words. In her world she was an indestructible street ninja, who’d likely have fought off starvation, sickness, loss, and who knew what else. The never-ending onslaught of the zombie horde was nothing to an orphaned teen girl.

  “So, who’s this J-Tiz dude? Ex boyfriend?” Echo had that ‘look’ in her eyes that girls get when they’re wanting some scoop. I had no scoop – at least not scoop I was willing to share at the moment. But who knew, we had a long ass drive ahead of us.

  “I need your help. We have to load the car up with anything and everything that will help us make it across the country.” Non-stop, the drive would take us nearly two days. Thanks to the apocalypse, non-stop no longer existed. We’d face zombies, riots, militia, and who knew what else between Pennsylvania and Washington. Having an infant and teenage girl on board… well, those complications went without saying.

  Echo’s eyebrows arched with excitement. “So you mean like guns, knives, grenades, gas masks?”

  “I mean like food, water, baby formula, diapers… you know, the boring stuff that’ll keep us alive. Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of arming us.”

  And I did. While Echo visited as many of the neighboring houses as needed to fill up a trunk-full of provisions, I did the same looking for weapons of undead destruction. The one thing about suburbi-land – although it seemed incredibly safe, people had secrets and secrets were the one thing worth keeping safe with the help of boomsticks and bangbangs. This fact o’ life was made even more real when that which is being hidden from prying eyes had a hefty price. The secrets of the wealthy were protected with expensive weaponry. So a big ‘thank you’ to white-collar crime!

  Teenage mistress? Hello Colt 45.

  Extortion? Meet my little friend semi-automatic.

  Laundered money? May I introduce you to AK 47?

  Along with the big guns, came a nice stockpile of swords that belonged in museums, as well as a crate of flares, an axe, a couple of claw hammers, various saws, and a few handy Tasiers (one even bedazzled with fake pink jewels).

  The last thing I bothered to locate was a stack of CDs. Tiny Radio Mike would only last so many miles, and even I have my limits with talk radio. So, the handful of compact discs would have to do. What I wouldn’t give for my blessed MP3 player. I’d spent untold hours perfecting my playlists. Oh well. Cest la vie, as it were… or at least it was when we were in France. But we won’t always have Paris.Before we slammed the doors closed on the Audi and Pennsylvania, I had one last task.

  This is Bethany Nitshimi – still alive and still kicking ass for Zombie Radio. Hopefully you caught the update on the site, leading you to the auditory Nirvana that is my voice in the now. As always, I must apologize for not being able to sound off a regular broadcast, but when you’re on the lamb from someone like The Zero Day Collective, you have to be as cautious as possible. That is the why of the secrecy. And you’ll have to pardon the cryptic as well. Even though I’m fairly certain not a single member of the ZDC is clever enough to locate this encrypted broadcast, I’m not about to give away precious information like my location.

  So, for all intent and purpose – know that I am here and you are there. Where here is, I’ll leave up to your imagination. But when I get to where I am going, I promise you there will be major announcements. Why? Because your DJ has happened across something big, something beautiful, and something that might well flap the wings of this chaos effect so hard, the ZDC will feel the ripple to their bowels.

  I have a new sidekick by the way. Her name is Echo and she’s bad ass. So everyone better think twice about getting in our way or we will take you down.

  Right now would be the perfect time for a song. It’s too bad I can’t oblige directly. But I can make a suggestion. As soon as I end this broadcast, I want everyone to spin up ‘Interstate Love Song’ by Stone Temple Pilots. If that song doesn’t make you want to don your beat-the-fuck-up straw cowboy hat an
d sweat across the country, nothing will. Keep the emails coming in. Talk to me my lovelies. I’m out.

  Echo watched every second of the recording like I was making magic. I hated that the poor girl had to find out the Zombie Radio broadcasts were no longer live. It wasn’t something I could risk. So I recorded them, fed them to a server, and looped just the new ‘cast for the given time period posted. It was the only way I could ensure the ZDC couldn’t track me. I had to lead them on, astray, and away from our goal. Honestly, I had no idea what kind of disorder I was heading into. I trusted Jamal implicitly, but I knew wrangling the post-apocalyptic cavalry was like herding cats. Whatever Jamal had in store would be better than facing down the Zero Day Collective alone.

  Once I had the file uploaded and the link set, it was time to punch the gas and hit the highway. A road trip. Who’d of thought I’d be going on a road trip? It was clear that Echo was even more excited than I. She had the passenger seat all decked out with various accoutrement associated with the sport of cross-country driving. It was actually endearing.

  Echo had also managed to dig up a baby seat for the car – one of the bourgeois, rear-facing models that would save Jacob should I T-bone a horde of screamers. The girl got it… survival. What I thought was going to be a teenage albatross around my neck, might well turn out to be a serious asset.

  Our first targets on the map were Akron, Ohio and Fort Wayne, Indiana. My goal was to try to stay on a highway that would take us through as many larger cities as possible. We were going to have to keep a steady stream of supplies coming in, and I would need network connectivity to keep in touch with a select group of people. I couldn’t always count on the aircards I had collected for connectivity. When I had larger files to upload (or download), I’d need the speeds of wireless or a hard-wired connection.